


miles and miles

by ms_starlight71



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s08e04 Roadrunners, Episode: s08e21 Existence, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Movie: The X-Files: Fight the Future (1998), On the Run, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29349105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_starlight71/pseuds/ms_starlight71
Summary: msr, mulder musing about scully while they're on the run
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	miles and miles

**Author's Note:**

> in my headcanons, [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25980091) is what happened in existence

She is simultaneously brand new and his oldest friend beneath his fingertips. 

For a second, lying here, in this motel room in some town he forgets the name of, it’s like they are fresh lovers, basking in the dewy glow of their newfound companionship. 

She is stretched out before him. Her solid body primed for worship. When he touches her, he’s sure she’s gotten softer. Her skin pliant beneath him. 

He takes his time. Wants to escape into this wormhole of pleasure they create between their bodies. 

He runs the pad of his thumb across the light pink scar down her vertebrae. 

“I was so scared,” she’d said when he saw it for the first time. 

“I know,” he’d replied, his voice barely hovering above a whisper. 

She’d shaken her head as he placed his lips down the knife’s trail. “Because I thought I was going to let you down, fail to protect the one miracle you’d given me.” Her tears had fallen freely. 

“Scully,” he’d murmured, the ghost of his lips so close to her ear. “You. Your existence was my first miracle. Everything else,” his voice breaking, “the rest didn’t matter if you weren’t okay.”

She ripples now beneath his musings, exhales as he meets the end of her tailbone. He kneads his thumbs into that last intercostal space, and she lets out a moan. He digs and digs. Trying to mend the wounds his absence has created. This anchor to her womb that carries the weight of her pride and the phantom presence of their child. 

He can still remember the smell of her blood pooling beneath him as he scooped her into his arms, their baby cradled between them, the sweet smell of her hair his only grounding.

In this moment he wants to remind her that everything good in him flows from her. That he is certain she is made of stardust and he will chase her light long past the boundaries of time. 

He works her glutes, leaning close enough to graze her skin. Smell for just a second the arousal that grows at her center. 

“Mulder,” she purrs, calling to him. “It’s not even my birthday yet.” 

He looks up at her, her cheeks already flushed, blue eyes blackened, pupils dilated in his direction. 

“Scully,” he huffs, trying hard to be coy. He forgoes it for honesty. “I intend to love you like this until your birthdays are all used up.” He can feel her lips pull into a bashful smile. The ones she used to hide in the middle of a crime scene when his jokes made her laugh. 

He taps her hipbone. “You ready?” he asks. “To turn over?” 

She nods as she lazily flips onto her back. 

He was unprepared for what her new curves did to him. His body had craved hers for so long, all he needed was her. But now, with the time to leer at her lovingly, he can’t deny the way it turns him on. 

To see her lush and full. Her body once home to another that was his. When he’d returned, he realized his jealousy was not about the new agent at her side, or the appearance that she'd moved on. He knew that child was his from first sight. But rather, he’d always considered her body _his_ home, the place he found solace. And he couldn’t help but be jealous of the cocoon of Scully his child got to enjoy. The psychologist in him postulated that he should dissect the origins of that jealousy, but he was too overwhelmed to engage. 

Now he treads carefully. Letting his tongue lick across her hip bones, the stretch marks that glisten on her skin, the faded line at her bellybutton. He wants it all. 

_You saved me a thousand times over._ Pulled my cold body from the ground with your pathologist hands, our baby mere fruit at your center. 

“I’ve never known a love like yours, Scully,” he whispers without thinking. His suction on her breast forcing her hands into his hair. She hums uninhibited. Their anonymity affording them this slight allowance. 

“I didn’t know I was _worthy_ of a love like this.” He presses on. His enthusiasm palpable between them. He follows the arc of her clavicle. Dips his nose into her chin. Can hardly resist a moment longer. Before she is grasping onto him. Needy and desperate. Their mouths moaning in tandem as their lips open wide. Her teeth pulling at his lower lip. 

“Mulder,” she breathes, as he chases the sound of his name into her throat. She rubs her thumbs against his temples in that way that makes him shudder. 

“Baby, look at me.” His long eyelashes flutter as he hesitates. Then flits his eyes upward to meet hers. Wonders for a second what William’s eyes look like now, whether her crystal blue and his murky hazel have appeared as tranquil as a river in his son’s gaze. 

“All the love I have to give is _yours_. I _choose_ you.” She grips his skull firmly, forcing the magnitude of her words to sink into his pores. 

She can feel his jawline quiver, his bones shifting under her watchful eye. Making room for the acceptance that needs to take up residence there. 

And then he exhales, transfers his soul into her body with his breath. She sighs contentedly, letting his lips carve new memories onto her skin


End file.
